


Hand in Glove

by 27dragons, tisfan



Series: Tales from the Communal Kitchen (the ex-assassins files) [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Presents, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-28
Updated: 2016-12-28
Packaged: 2018-09-12 19:14:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9086167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/27dragons/pseuds/27dragons, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tisfan/pseuds/tisfan
Summary: Bucky peppered Tony’s jawline and throat with sweet, gentle kisses. “Been waitin’ to get you alone all night,” he said. “I gotta ‘nother present for you, upstairs.”Bucky met Tony’s eyes, then blushed and looked away, tucking his face into Tony’s neck. He covered his shy embarrassment pretty well by nipping at Tony’s collarbone, but Tony had seen it anyway, and squirmed with delight. “Something sexy?” Tony guessed, mostly just to make that blush flare a little brighter.“Sure hope so,” Bucky said with a soft huff against Tony’s skin.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty much the whole thing is straight-up smut. Those of you who aren't down for that can enjoy the first few paragraphs, which is a fluffy summary of the Avengers' Christmas, but it turns into smut pretty quickly after that.
> 
> The rest of you: you're welcome. ;)

“ _Hand in glove”, adverb:  in extremely close relationship or agreement_

 

_Tony_

It had been a good Christmas.

Tony had managed to cajole everyone into staying at the Tower for the holiday, even the ones who had other options, like Rhodey and Sam. They’d exchanged deliberately horrible and ridiculous gifts, amongst the more heartfelt items. They’d watched movies and danced to Christmas carols. They’d drunk eggnog and hot chocolate and then more eggnog. So much eggnog. They’d tried to make cookies but wound up eating all the batter instead (Tony blamed the eggnog for that one). They’d eaten an amazing dinner.

Miracles had happened:

Sam had beaten Clint at MarioKart, not once, but three times. (Tony was pretty sure the eggnog had something to do with that, too.)

Natasha had actually blushed when she’d opened her gift from Bruce.

Darcy had introduced them to what she called the Mistletoe Drinking Game, which had resulted in a lot of hilarity, a few more eggnog-inspired shenanigans, and some Required Kissing(TM) between some of the hottest people Tony had ever had the privilege to know. (Darcy was Tony’s new favorite.)

Rhodey hadn’t tried to argue with Tony when he’d opened the present Tony had given him.

Thor had worn an Ugly Christmas Sweater that featured knit versions of the Avengers and so many blinking lights that even Tony had worried about the fire hazard. (The little knit IronMan had LED repulsors. He’d mocked it, but demanded to know where Jane had bought it.)

Pepper had not had to field a single call from SI for the entire day. And he’d only caught her checking her email twice.

Steve had laughed -- and not just an amused chuckle, but a deep, rolling belly-laugh that had gone on and on until he was nearly in tears. That was less the eggnog and more the fact that he was finally getting laid (even if his girlfriend was nuttier than all the squirrels in Central Park), combined with Thor’s sweater, and the fact that the fabric was so warped and stretched by Thor’s massive... everything that it looked like the little knit Captain America was throwing his little knit shield right at the little knit Falcon’s butt.

And best of all, miracle of miracles, Evil had apparently decided to take the day off.

So. All in all, a perfect Christmas.

It was late, probably past midnight, by the time Tony and Bucky excused themselves from the rapidly-dwindling group still gathered for the movie marathon to go to bed. Bucky had been giving Tony long, smoldering looks since dinner, his pretty blush climbing bit by bit out of his collar and up his neck.

Tony’s Christmas was about to get even better, he was pretty sure. He’d held off as long as he could, enjoying the anticipation, teasing Bucky in turn with sly smiles and winks, lingering touches, and the occasional stolen kiss or grope as they watched the others come and go.

The instant the elevator doors closed, Bucky crowded Tony against the wall and picked him up without so much as a grunt of effort, which was always just unfairly, unbearably hot. But instead of ravaging Tony’s ready and willing mouth, Bucky peppered Tony’s jawline and throat with sweet, gentle kisses. “Been waitin’ to get you alone all night,” he said. “I gotta ‘nother present for you, upstairs.”

Bucky met Tony’s eyes, then blushed and looked away, tucking his face into Tony’s neck. He covered his shy embarrassment pretty well by nipping at Tony’s collarbone, but Tony had seen it anyway, and squirmed with delight. “Something sexy?” Tony guessed, mostly just to make that blush flare a little brighter.

“Sure hope so,” Bucky said with a soft huff against Tony’s skin.

“Mm, something to play with, or something to wear?”

“Uh. Wear, I guess.”

“You guess?” The doors opened onto the penthouse, and Bucky tugged Tony into a more secure grip and carried him straight toward the bedroom. _Do not pass Go, do not collect $200_.

But _do_ get fucked right through the mattress pretty soon, from the sound of it.

Tony grinned as Bucky dropped him on the bed. “If you bought me lingerie for our first Christmas together, I’m going to be very impressed at your initiative,” Tony said.

“Tony!” Bucky gasped, his eyes widening the way they did when Tony said something that left him half-scandalized, half-intrigued, and wholly turned on. So probably not lingerie, then, but definitely something to keep in mind for the future. Maybe for Bucky’s birthday.

Tony stretched like a sleepy cat, knowing Bucky couldn’t help but watch. “So what is it?”

Bucky ducked to retrieve a box from under the bed, almost the shape of a tie box but a little too wide and thick. “You could just open it and see,” he said, handing it over and sitting on the side of the bed.

Tony took it and leaned in for a quick kiss. “I could, but I’m kind of having fun teasing you with my guesses.”

“Tony...” Bucky’s tone couldn’t decide between plaintive and pleased.

Tony grinned and untied the ribbon. It was satin, a gorgeous red with gold stripe down each edge, obviously chosen because they were Tony’s colors. Tony held it up and considered it. “Might be long enough to tie my wrists together,” he mused. Bucky made a noise somewhere between a growl and a whimper, and Tony laughed.

Taking pity, Tony lifted the lid. And then blinked, nonplussed. “Lab gloves?” He looked again, but it didn’t change. Shiny black neoprene, slightly curved fingers. No grip texture, which was a little odd. “What...”

Wait.

There was only _one_ glove.

A _left_ glove.

“... _Oh_ ,” Tony whispered. “Holy shit.”

Bucky shifted a little. “Like it?”

“Oh, _hell_ yes.” Tony picked up the glove and examined it. Smooth surface, neoprene thick enough that it wouldn’t allow pinching from the delicate plates of Bucky’s fingers, but thin enough to let Tony feel them shifting. He looked up to catch Bucky’s eyes. “Now?”

“Why do you think I’ve been trying to lure you up here all night?”

“Best. Boyfriend. Ever.”

***

_Bucky_

Christ, but Tony scared him sometimes.

Like right now, writhing and humming happily as Bucky stripped him, giddy with fervor, and not the slightest bit concerned about just how much damage the metal arm could do to him. And it wasn’t like he didn’t _know_ ; he’d done stress-tests and whatnot to help with maintenance, he’d seen Bucky destroy one of Steve’s specially-reinforced heavy bags with a _single blow_.

Bucky’s fingers could, without any extra leverage at all from the rest of the arm, shred concrete and twist inch-thick steel rebar. And he was going to put them _inside his lover_. Who was not the least bit concerned about this idea -- was, in fact, actively _getting off_ on it.

Tony trusted Bucky a hell of a lot more than Bucky trusted himself, half the time.

Which didn’t mean Bucky didn’t want to do it. Part of Bucky was utterly terrified that he would hurt Tony, but the rest of him -- the dark, possessive beast that he didn’t like to acknowledge much -- was practically humming with anticipation, knowing he was going to give Tony something that no other lover could. That he was going to make Tony _his_ in yet another way.

 _Mine_.

Of course, that was a little frightening, too.

It was a feeling that Bucky suspected he was going to have to resign himself to. Living with Tony was like being on a roller coaster, half-certain at every moment that everything was about to turn into a disaster, but enjoying the hell out of it all the same.

Finally, they were both naked, Tony stretched out on the bed and Bucky settled comfortably between his thighs, teasing him with kisses and nips, scraping unshaven cheeks across Tony’s belly to make him jump and gasp, breathing hot, moist air down the length of Tony’s cock.

Bucky could do this for hours -- _had_ , in fact, pinning Tony to the bed and torturing him for half the night, until he was begging, _pleading_ for more. When Bucky had finally let Tony come, he’d yelled loud enough to be heard all the way over in Brooklyn, and actually passed out for a minute or so. One of Bucky’s prouder moments.

But that wasn’t the game tonight, so he contented himself with only a little teasing, just enough to get Tony good and worked up.

Tony sat up to watch as Bucky pulled the glove on, then he took Bucky’s hand and ran his fingers all over it, testing the feel, comparing it, Bucky assumed, to the feel of the naked metal. It felt more or less the same to Bucky -- pressure, almost a tickle. He didn’t get much temperature feedback, but he wouldn’t be wearing it long enough for the poor ventilation inside the glove to build up heat and damage the circuits. “Okay?” Bucky asked.

The mischievous slant of Tony’s smile was all the warning Bucky got before Tony sucked two of those fingers into his mouth.

Bucky sucked in a startled breath and exhaled it on a groan. He couldn’t really feel the wet heat the way he could with his flesh hand, but he knew what it _should_ feel like, and the visual was _stunning_. He’d put the metal fingers in Tony’s mouth before, but he had to hold them very still; letting the plates pinch the inside of Tony’s mouth would very definitely be a moodkiller. But now...

Bucky curled the fingers, gently, stroking Tony’s tongue. Tony hummed and smiled around them, encouraging. Bucky twisted his hand over -- slowly, so carefully -- and curled them again, lightly brushing his fingertips along Tony’s soft palate. Tony’s eyelids fluttered in pleasure and Bucky had to take another hard breath because Tony was just that beautiful.

Bucky fucked his fingers in and out of Tony’s mouth, his eyes on Tony’s face, watching for any sign of pain or discomfort, but Tony only looked blissed-out. Bucky pulled his fingers free, smearing saliva down Tony’s lip and chin. “Guess that’s a yes, then,” he said, his voice already rough with wanting.

“Mmm,” Tony agreed. He looked smug. “Weren’t expecting that, were you?”

Bucky huffed. “No. I didn’t think you’d enjoy the taste of rubber.”

“It’s not as good as your skin or the metal, but I’ve had worse. Totally worth it to make you blush.” Tony grinned and ran his own fingertips along Bucky’s collarbone, where the edge of the blush usually stopped. “And it doesn’t taste too strong. Little smear of flavored lube on the tips, next time, and I’ll be good to go.”

Bucky was pretty sure he just blushed harder at that. He leaned in and kissed Tony to shut him up. The taste of the neoprene lingered on Tony’s lips, but as Tony had said, it wasn’t very strong. “Mmm, you ready, baby?”

“More than.”

Bucky flickered an appreciative glance down Tony’s body, then smacked him lightly on the hip. “Face down, ass up, then.”

“Clint isn’t allowed to mess with your music anymore,” Tony complained, but he rolled over the way Bucky wanted him.

Bucky laughed and pressed his lips to the skin of Tony’s back. “I don’t even really like the song as much as I like to watch you bitch about it,” he admitted. “You’re so cute when you start ranting about music.” He dragged the gloved fingers down Tony’s spine, watching the shiver it elicited. “And I have better control this way.”

“It’s not the position I object to, it’s the _ohhhhh_ yeah.”

Bucky smirked -- the _other_ way to shut Tony up, however briefly -- and kept rubbing his fingertip against Tony’s hole, pressing without quite pushing in yet. “That feel good?”

“Obviously,” Tony sighed. He tried to push back against Bucky’s hand, but Bucky pulled away.

“Stop that,” Bucky chided. “I want to take my time so you can enjoy it.”

“I would really enjoy it if you’d get in me now,” Tony said.

Bucky hummed. “What’s the magic word?”

Tony twisted to glare at him, and Bucky grinned. “Abracadabra,” Tony said, deadpan.

“Not the word I was thinking of,” Bucky said. He added another dollop of lube to his fingers and went back to circling and teasing.

“How about, ‘magic is for pretentious dickbags’?”

“That’s a hell of a word, Tony; how do you spell it?”

Tony fumbled for a pillow to throw at him. Bucky caught it with his free hand, laughing.

“I’d like to point out that the sooner you get your fingers in me, the sooner you can get your cock in me,” Tony said. “It’s in your favor as much as mine to get a move on.”

“Baby, I could come just watching you wiggle like this; I’m not in any rush, here.”

Tony grumbled under his breath. “I _can’t_ say it now; it’s the principle of the thing.”

“The principle, huh?” Bucky leaned forward, stretching himself over Tony’s back to scatter kisses down Tony’s spine. “Well, I do admire a man of principle and virtue. You know what’s a virtue, Tony?”

Tony whined, obviously anticipating the answer.

“Patience,” Bucky said anyway, laughing softly against Tony’s skin, enjoying the shudder it caused. He let the tip of his finger slip into Tony’s hole, just for a second, then pulled out and went back to teasing.

Tony groaned, maybe just a little theatrically. “I love you?” he tried.

“Love you, too,” Bucky said warmly, nuzzling at the base of Tony’s spine. “Still ain’t the word.”

Tony squirmed -- mostly for effect, Bucky thought, because Tony wasn’t using even a fraction of his strength or speed -- and whimpered, “God, Bucky, put it in me, _please_.”

“There you go, Zhelezoska,” Bucky said, and pushed his finger in, right up to the second knuckle, began sliding it in and out, pushing a hair deeper with each thrust.

“Oh, god,” Tony sighed. “Oh, yeah, that feels... god, _yes_.”

Bucky grinned and kept working the finger in, adding lube as he went, occasionally nipping or scraping his beard against the round curve of Tony’s butt just to keep things interesting. When he’d worked it in as deep as he could get it, he stopped, letting Tony finish adjusting to the slight stretch.

So far, he figured, it probably felt pretty similar to a plug or a dildo. Bucky set his right hand on the top of Tony’s hip and pressed down just a little, just enough to tell Tony not to move, and then he --carefully, god, _carefully_ \-- curled his finger inside Tony, stretching deep inside, testing the pressure of the muscle.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Tony breathed. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck--”

“Tony?” Bucky froze. “You okay? Talk to me, baby.”

“Jesus, don’t _stop_ , god, do that again,” Tony demanded.

Bucky huffed out a sigh of mingled relief and exasperation and started moving again, crooking his finger a bit and twisting his wrist.

Tony groaned. “Bucky, god, yes, yes, keep doing that.”

Warmth flooded Bucky, the knowledge that he was responsible for Tony’s already-shuddering voice, that note of desperation in his tone. Not being able to feel heat or texture meant that Bucky could focus on really fine shifts in pressure; the instant he felt the muscle squeezing his finger relax a bit, he pulled out and came back this time with a second finger.

The metal fingers were thicker and harder than the real ones, so Bucky had to work Tony open more slowly and carefully than usual. He watched, listening with only half an ear to Tony’s litany of cursing and praise and begging and demands, let Tony’s moans and gasps shiver down to tingle in his balls.

Once both fingers were fully in, Tony _begged_ Bucky to use some of that terrifying strength on him. “Come on, soldier, I wanna feel you all the way into the new year.” The darkness in him roared in triumph and Bucky gave in, twisting his wrist again, scissoring a little harder than he might otherwise have.

Tony tried to shove back against him, but Bucky tightened his grip on Tony’s hip. “No,” he said, rough and harsh. “Stay still.” The predator approved of the control; the lover needed Tony to be safe and unhurt. It wasn’t often that those two parts of him were in agreement. Bucky panted for breath and dropped another kiss on Tony’s back. “I’ve got you,” he promised. “Just let me take care of you.”

Tony sighed a little and shifted his knees, settling. “Okay,” he said. “Okay. I’m all yours.”

Another surge of wanting washed over him. “Damn straight,” he growled, trembling suddenly with the need to _take_ , to _possess_ this beautiful man. _Mine_.

Bucky had to close his eyes until the feeling faded a little, breathing hard. “You about ready for three, baby?” Once in a while, Tony asked him to stop at two; he liked the extra stretch of skipping the third before Bucky fucked him. But tonight, the hand was the whole _point_ ; Bucky wasn’t going to be rushed.

Tony wiggled a little, not pushing, but testing his sensations. “Yeah,” he said after a minute. “Give it to me. Take it nice and slow, though. It feels... god, I’m so full already.”

Bucky almost asked if it was okay, if he needed to stop, but that would probably annoy Tony. Tony was careless of his own comfort, especially in pursuit of pleasure, but he wouldn’t let Bucky cause him real harm.

And god, the _trust_... Bucky worked into Tony as slowly as he could, his own thoughts vibrating between whimpering fear and howling lust and shattered awe at the trust Tony was giving him, that Tony gave him every day. He didn’t deserve it, and someday he was going to fuck it up, but until that moment, he was going to clutch it tight to his chest and not let go.

Tony was babbling, now, barely understandable between gasps and half-sobs of mixed pleasure and pain, his voice almost unrecognizable.

Slow and slow and slow. It was torture; it was a benediction. It was agony, and it was a privilege. Sweat broke out on Bucky’s face and neck as he watched, rolling down his jaw to drip on the sheets, on his arm, on Tony’s skin. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could bear this glacial pace, but he didn’t think he could do anything else. Tony was so goddamn gorgeous, trembling and shaking under him, and Bucky could watch him every day for the rest of his life.

In, finally, all three, and Bucky curled his fingers, searching, until Tony’s whole body jolted and Tony shouted in surprise and began babbling even faster.

He fucked his fingers in and out of Tony’s body, a slow, implacable rhythm. Tony had gone limp, head lolling as each thrust in pressed a shuddering groan from those sinful lips.

“God, Tony, you’re so, so beautiful,” Bucky gasped. “So perfect, I just--” He bit his lip, hard enough to taste blood. “Christ, but I want you, want you so bad...”

“Yes,” Tony groaned. “Yes, now, in me, Bucky, _please_.”

Bucky didn’t have to be told twice; he pulled his fingers free as quickly as he could manage without hurting Tony, and then knelt up between Tony’s knees, lined his aching dick against that hole. Fuck, it was practically _gaping,_ just begging for him to fill it.

He pushed in in one slow, smooth stroke, choking out a moan of relief as Tony’s body drew him in, hot and slick and greedy.

“Bucky,” Tony panted. “Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, yes, yes, more, _more_ ,”

Bucky shuddered and pulled back so he could thrust back in, and they both cried out. Bucky fought to keep a rhythm, struggling against a body that teetered on the edge of frenzy. Tony wasn’t any more with it; he was trying to push back into Bucky’s thrusts, but they couldn’t quite match rhythms and Bucky was going to go _mad_.

Whimpering, he shifted his weight to the right and slid his left hand, still gloved and slick with lube, to wrap around Tony’s cock. Tony shuddered at the touch and started cursing.

Bucky gritted his teeth and set a rhythm by sheer force of will, stroking down Tony’s cock as he thrust in, pinning Tony at the center of pleasure until all the muscles in Tony’s back and arms bunched up. A long, thin groan slid out of Tony’s throat and then sharpened into a shout as he released.

“That’s it, honey,” Bucky gritted, “that’s perfect, god, you’re so sweet.” He dropped his head, releasing the strain in his neck so his forehead rested between Tony’s shoulder blades. The rhythm stuttered and slipped, but it didn’t matter, because nothing could stop the sudden rush of Bucky’s own climax.

Bucky pulled out and collapsed with a groan, catching his weight at the last instant to avoid squashing Tony. He flopped to the side instead, pulling Tony over with him. Tony squawked in surprise but settled again, pressing back into Bucky’s warmth.

He caught the cuff of the glove and peeled it off Bucky’s hand, tossing it to the floor. “God, I love you.”

Bucky pulled him in closer, nuzzling at the sweat-damp and curling hair at the nape of his neck. “Mm. Merry Christmas, Zhelezosa.”

Tony pulled the metal arm over his side and threaded his fingers with Bucky’s. “ _S Razhdestvom, moya soldat_.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Happy Holidays to all our _amazing_ readers! This is just a little side story that we couldn't help writing after Tony mentioned in [Winter is Coming](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8098120) that he _really_ wanted to get Bucky's metal hand in him...
> 
> We'll be back next week with the first two chapters of "What Gets You Through the Night", which is mostly about Steve.
> 
> Here's hoping for a bright new year for us all!


End file.
